


My One and Only Stucky Sickfic

by taylor_tut



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Has PTSD, Domestic Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Gen, Protective Steve Rogers, Sick Bucky Barnes, Sick Character, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-30 02:56:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15087467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylor_tut/pseuds/taylor_tut
Summary: A birthday present fic from my tumblr for the prompt "Steve and Bucky are dating, and Bucky gets sick with a dangerously high fever. He gets delirious and starts to think he's back in a Hydra facility. Meanwhile, Steve is trying to bring Bucky to the hospital to bring his fever down (let's ignore the fact that they're fugitives)."





	My One and Only Stucky Sickfic

I’m sorry that this is kind of shitty and two days late, but I really have discovered that I a) don’t know how to capture Bucky’s voice at all and b) really suck at writing Stucky. I hope you enjoy it anyway. GOD the ending sucks please don’t hate me

* * *

 

Steve wants so badly to believe that he saw the signs that Bucky wasn’t feeling well, but if he’s being honest with himself, he missed them. Every single one.

In hindsight, Bucky had woken up late. That wasn’t unusual on a normal day, but today wasn’t a normal day: it was Clint’s turn to make breakfast, which means that breakfast was going to be a whole ordeal. Clint did NOT fuck around when waffles were on the line.

So Bucky stumbling into the kitchen half an hour into breakfast, then barely nibbling at his now-cold waffle, was highly suspect. But Steve had chalked it up to a poor night’s sleep–almost all of the Avengers had them, because nightmares were pretty frequent and extremely disruptive.

His second clue should have been Bucky choosing to stay in and watch TV with Natasha instead of going for a run with Sam and Steve. He’d said that he and Tasha had agreed to watch the final episode of the Bachelor before she left to “visit a friend of hers” in Russia, which Steve could only shudder to think about what that actually meant, and Steve, like the idiot he was, believed that, too. They had a darn DVR, for goodness sake, which Tony had explained could record shows so that you could watch them later, and he was sure that they could do that later in the evening. But at the time, when he’d watched them both set up camp on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and blankets, the alibi had seemed to check out.

It wasn’t until later that Natasha told him that Bucky had fallen asleep not ten minutes into the episode that he realized that it was an excuse to get out of jogging.

The third clue had been less of a clue and more of a roadside billboard with lights and sirens that said “Hey, Dumbass! Your Boyfriend Needs You!” in big, neon letters.

That sign was an argument.

Not just any argument–a fight that BUCKY picked.

Most of the time, Steve was the who started things. He didn’t mean to, but he’d complain about Bucky’s disorganization and clutter, or worse, try to CLEAN it, and Bucky would have to tell him to leave it alone and that he was ruining his system, damn it. Or Steve would try to badger Tony about his eating and sleeping habits (which were, namely, a habit of doing neither of those things) and Bucky would defend him, saying he was an adult that could make his own (stupid) decisions and suffer his own (stupid) consequences and it really wasn’t any of Steve’s business.

Steve worried a lot. Bucky loved that about him. Bucky needed that, whether he would admit it or not; they all did.

It had started innocently enough.

“Hey, Buck, I just wanted to remind you that you’ve got overdue library books,” he’d said innocently. He’d been saying it innocently for a week now.

“I know,” he sighed. “I’ll get around to it.”

Steve frowned. “Why don’t you just do it now?”

“I’m busy.”

“Really?” Steve asked. “Because it looks like you’re just sitting on the couch watching Animal Planet.”

“Yeah, and I’m busy doing it,” he snapped.

“Woah, you don’t need to cop an attitude.”

Bucky scoffed. “‘Cop an attitude?’ What am I, your teenage daughter? I can talk however I want.”

“Well, I’d appreciate if you didn’t talk that way to me,” Steve said defensively.

Bucky rolled his eyes. He actually rolled his eyes. At Steve.

“Whatever,” he muttered.

Steve gaped like a dying trout. “Whatever?” he echoed. “Don’t you ‘whatever’ me! That’s so rude, I can’t even believe you!”

Bucky stood up and pushed past Steve more aggressively than he really had to. “I’m going to my room,” he bit.

Steve had no desire to follow him.

Steve had no desire to check on him for three hours.

He was deep into a book in his own room when Bucky came stumbling in through the door, looking frantic, and all the irritation from before melted away. Bucky usually didn’t react this way to nightmares unless they were particularly triggering.

“Buck?” Steve asked, grabbing him by the shoulders as he shakily let himself crumple to the floor, “Bucky, honey, it was just a dream. You’re okay.”

Bucky shook his head, tears in his eyes. “No, Steve, I–I can’t–I’m sorry,” he stammered, his words tumbling into each other deliriously. “They got you, too–my fault.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, “No one has us. We’re okay. I’m fine, and you’re fine.”

Again, Bucky shook his head, looking suspiciously sick to his stomach if Steve’s hunch was right–and it was proven to be mere seconds later, as he gagged into the small trash can that Steve set in his lap.

“Think you’re done?” he asked. Bucky nodded and Steve pushed the garbage can away from him. This, he thought, was strange. It was usually Tony who had such vivid trauma nightmares that he’d get physically ill–a side effect of being a genius with a crazy memory and no coping mechanisms that weren’t served on the rocks was apparently that he relived Afghanistan pretty often. Bucky usually calmed down pretty soon after waking up.

“We have to get out,” Bucky insisted. “Hydra–who knows what they’re gonna do?”

Now, Steve was lowkey panicking.

“Hydra?” he repeated, “you think that you’re–Buck, where do you think we are?”

Bucky’s eyes darted around with fear and no familiarity. “Hydra lab,” he said simply.

“Honey, no, we’re–hey, look at me–we’re at Stark Tower. Safe. No Hydra.”

Bucky didn’t look convinced, but the deep, calming breath that Steve allowed himself slowed the adrenaline for long enough to notice his senses.

“Oh, Buck,” he murmured, shifting his hands from Bucky’s lower back to his forehead with a dissatisfied hiss, “you’re really burning up.”

“Not important,” Bucky shook him off, trying to stand and failing. “Hydra.”

He wasn’t getting any more lucid, and he was freaking boiling, and Steve didn’t know what to do until Jarvis spoke up.

“Captain Rogers,” he cut in formally, “would you like me to call for an ambulance? Mr. Barnes’ temperature is quite elevated, according to my sensors.”

Damn, did Tony have technology built into his floor? What the hell was that about?

“Please,” Steve requested politely, “thank you, Jarvis.”

Jarvis didn’t reply for a few moments, returning only to tell Steve that the ambulance was on its way and that the ETA was only ten minutes or less.

Okay. That would be okay. They could both handle ten minutes.

Bucky met Steve’s eyes with muddy fear. “Sorry we were fighting,” he said, apparently unaware of where he was at but clear-headed enough to remember pissing off his boyfriend.

“Don't’ apologize,” Steve replied gently, “I should have noticed you were sick.”

Bucky shook his head as if to disagree, but didn’t say anything, instead opting to frantically grab for the trash basin once more.

The vomiting lasted on and off until the paramedics arrived, star-struck by where they were but professional enough to try not to show it.

“Would you like to ride with him, Captain?” one of the EMTs asked, and Steve nodded, reluctantly shifting Bucky, who had gone more or less limp in his arms after being sick, onto the gurney that she held. Of course Steve would go with him. He was with him til the end of the line.


End file.
